


Look (Only) At Me

by ghee (sabakunoghee)



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Older Man/Younger Man, One-Sided Attraction, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabakunoghee/pseuds/ghee
Summary: —thus, he didn’t expect a hug.T-rated | Canon/IC | Romance, Family, Hurt/ComfortA multi chapter slow-burn about Gaara, Shinki, and an obsession.





	1. Prologue

_‘–this is the end,_ ’ he thought, _‘They’re going to kill me_.’

 

Nobody wanted him. Remembered him. He was too _dangerous_ , to begin with. A walking arsenal.

 

He had no idea at first; black grains followed him, trailed him, his skin naturally absorbed the dark material as if it was meant to be his property. It wasn’t threatening at the beginning. It ‘asked’ him to play, to manipulate, to reform. One day, the sand floated around his feet. Another day, it covered his torso like a living armor. In the long run, things got complicated. The substance acted offensive. When he felt intimidated, the inky granules attacked his opponent—the last thing he knew, people were afraid of him. He was labeled as a monster. He was isolated, ignored, abandoned, by his people.

 

He wasn’t even a juvenile when the orphanage dumped him. He ran, he screamed, he cried, he didn’t understand _why_ he had to go through this. A need to catch some breath was the reason he stopped rushing, and he could taste how salty his sweat and tears were. _Why me_ , he asked himself, _why me_.

 

Sooner or later, he would be found. It was unavoidable.

 

“—no way,”

 

But, as he recognized the _shinobi_ who was after him, he couldn’t be more surprised. It was, “Godaime-sama…” he hissed. This—was not _only_ bad. This is the _worst_ scenario he could imagine. Automatically, he defended himself using the black sand; a small amount of it formed spikes and charged at the enemy.

 

He could take a reprisal,

 

He estimated physical retribution,

 

“… I will teach you how to control your power,” a calm, serene tenor came from a close, _intimate_ range which put him off guard. His sand dissolved as a question went after another, “What’s your name?”

 

—thus, he didn’t expect a _hug_.


	2. [ 133 cm ]

“…why…”

 

Well. The same ‘why’ was spinning around inside his head.

 

“Because,” Sabaku no Gaara, as the Fifth Kazekage, could easily say things like, ‘every citizen of Suna is my family,’ and the discussion will reach its end. It wasn’t wise to let a child wandered by himself in an empty, dark alley. That would be against his vow as a ruler of the village. Gaara was preparing some proper clothing for the boy with traditional war-paint covering his tiny face. His hands froze while searching for a satisfying yet neutral argument, “You didn’t have anywhere to come home to.” The brunette realized that his answer might be too harsh for him, “…uh.” _How old is this child, again?_

 

“You could say,” unexpectedly, the little man answered with no hesitation, “I don’t know who my parents are, or if I ever had any siblings,” he lifted his hands. The silica slithered, followed his movement like a fluid, “— _this_ , is the only thing I have. I didn’t even know what this element is.”

 

_The iron sand and Magnet Release._

 

_…Sandaime Kazekage._

For a minute, Gaara didn’t say anything. His mind was occupied with prejudice; did his ancestors hide secrecy behind his and his father’s back regarding their descendant? _Kekkai-genkai_ was passed down between generations. He couldn’t believe that this black-haired boy _suddenly_ was able to wield this unique technique. Shinki— _he introduced himself that way_ —whoever his father, his clan, his ancestry was, Gaara assured himself that he just found a promising warrior. A raw potential who waited to be molded, polished; even though he didn’t think to shape him into an ultimate weapon like he was.

 

He wasn’t his own father. _He wasn’t Rasa_.

 

“I… was driven out from my shelter because of _this_ ,” those words silenced Gaara even more, “I grew up in an orphanage, together with other children… My friends,” the Kazekage was alerted by a sudden movement of Shinki’s black sand, “—but because of this cursed _thing_ , I was… They called me a monster.”

 

“Shinki,”

 

Gaara fathomed that activating his own _ninjutsu_ would create more chaos. So he decided to approach Shinki the same way he used to. The sand-user grabbed the little boy by his both wrists as he deepened their eye contact. He trusted this act is the easiest and powerful way to make a person _feels_.

 

Slow but sure, he shifted into tranquillity. His heart rate decreased and his breath returned to normal. The only thing which made him awkward was Gaara’s touch on his skin; his shoulders flinched a bit.

 

“I apologize,” as he let Shinki’s wrists go, Gaara smiled faintly, “You could just tell me if you dislike physical contact,” he added, his hands hovered in the air, “—I used to hate it too, I should say.”

 

“N-no, Kazekage-sama, it’s not that I dislike it, it was just…” Shinki took a step back, “— _new_ , for me.”

 

The answer reminded him of his own past,

 

“You better get used to it,” as if nurturing a stray cat, Gaara carefully put his palm on Shinki’s head, gently stroke his dark, spiky hair. He was being watchful and ready to withdraw if this talented kid resisted it, which, fortunately, he didn’t, “As from today, you’re my disciple. You haven’t figured it yet, but your competence is extremely uncommon. It would be a huge waste if your talent—” Gaara muted a second. He gave his tone a small pressure, “No, precisely, you may harm innocent people if can’t control your power and your iron sand.” Gaara said it bluntly, having zero sense of euphemism.

 

Shinki gulped in terror. His eyes widened as fear consumed him.

 

Gaara _understood_. He was there; walking a mile in his shoes. So he slowly kneeled down, made sure his eye level was at the same height as Shinki’s and realized it right after, _they shared the same color_.

 

“It will be dangerous, not only for you but also for your surroundings. You’re a good person, aren’t you, you wouldn’t want to put others in misery.” It was sacred, how Gaara talked some sense to him.

 

“I– _no_ , Kazekage-sama.”

 

A light pat landed on his lightning-shaped painted cheek, “To train your talent wouldn’t be easy, and it would take most of your time,” he said in a composed voice, hoped he could reassure his new student, “ _Could_ you, and _would_ you do that for me, Shinki?” Gaara tightened his grip on Shinki’s shoulders.

 

“I could, and I would, Kazekage-sama.”

 

“We have an agreement.”

 

Gaara lifted the tip of his lips. Another gentle tap on Shinki’s face, a sincere gesture, before continuing his delayed task; preparing Shinki a set of apparel. The Kage himself chose which one for him to wear.

 

“This bedroom was occasionally used by my big sister when she visited Suna. Luckily, she had a son, he’s the same age as you, I assume, and they surely won’t mind if you wear this one,” Gaara lifted one of Nara Shikadai’s collections; he inherited his father’s trait—he wouldn’t care enough about petty things like clothing. But maybe, just maybe, it meant the world for Shinki, “Use this room as you wish, Shinki,” a splash of awkwardness was heard from Gaara’s voice, as he didn’t fond of sentimental stuff, “—Kankuro will tell you some basic rules you have to obey. We will start your training tomorrow.”

 

“A—affirmative, Kazekage-sama!”

 

_Why… me?_

 

“Also, because you said that you remained alone with no family left,” Gaara looked down, finding a pair of emerald eyes, watched him back as sharp as eagle’s, “Please, consider us as your own.”

 

Shinki was left speechless,

 

He didn’t have the best reaction. He stuttered. His joints trembled.

 

“I, well, I— _yes_ , Kazekage-sama!” spontaneously, Shinki bowed, way too deep, grateful. If the only thing Gaara wanted from him was his loyalty, he would gladly give his _all_ , “Thank you very much!”

 

Gaara chuckled, “Well then, I’ll leave you for now—”

 

“Kazekage-sama.”

 

The door was half closed when Gaara looked toward the boy.

 

“—does, does it hurt?”

 

He wasn’t really sure about the context, “Excuse me?”

 

“The wounds. On your back,” Shinki fluttered, “I attacked you, and it’s bleeding.”

 

“Hm…” the assault indeed left his tunic ripped. Now to think about it, it was throbbing a little, “It’s nothing. I’ve been through worse,” Gaara shook his head, “You don’t have to worry. This will heal fast.”

 

“But it still needs immediate treatment, right?” he insisted.

 

The brunette held his laugh, “Do you master any medical _jutsu_ or how to brew potions, Shinki?”

 

“Uh-no,” Shinki recoiled, “But, at least, I want to do something for you, Kazekage-sama,” his voice was diminished, but his determination didn’t, “I did that to you, after all.” _You wouldn’t experience such a painful thing if you didn’t try to protect me_. He ran out of courage, so he left his words unfinished.

 

For a boy his age, Gaara saw a huge responsibility in his eyes. He giggled, “—the practice, tomorrow,” in a split second, his expression returned as usual; indifferent, “Don’t ever neglect it at any costs.”

 

The ‘requirements’ stiffened Shinki’s face,

 

“I won’t let you down, Kazekage-sama.”

 

Gaara slightly nodded as he disappeared behind the door.

 

Although, from Shinki’s perspective, his mentor moved in slow motion. Gaara was so _big_. From his tiny kaleidoscope, he had to look up, the nape of his neck was stiff as he tried too hard to match his height. Shinki was fascinated, bewitched, as he solemnly hummed a wish, _‘—I can’t wait to grow up.’_


	3. [ 140 cm ]

“You,”

 

Gaara stared at his big sister,

 

“— _sure_ , about this?”

 

“No.”

 

The blonde knew. She _always_ did.

 

That was why she decided to leave Shikadai for a while. Their hometown is not _that_ friendly to those who couldn’t stand the extreme heat and his son was one of them. She could trust Kankuro as Gaara’s personal bodyguard, to arrange and moderate political discussion. But in this case, _no_ , her maternal instinct kicked in – Gaara was about to sign some paperwork required for adoption. Even the Kazekage needed accompaniment and moral support; _it would be emotional_ , Temari thought. Fosterage wasn’t an easy task, even for the leader of Hidden Sand, it still needed approval from the village’s Elders.

 

Temari giggled, “When you told me that you’re going to adopt him, you didn’t make _that_ face.”

 

Lazily, the youngest rolled his eyes, “I never thought that it would be this…” _what a blasphemy_ , to admit that he was nervous, afraid, excited, or _all of them_ , “I don’t know. It might be too late to say it now, but I’m not sure if I could be a good father figure for him,” Gaara stole a glance at his sibling, “I, we, didn’t have a treasured, good memory about our father and our childhood.” gloomily, he added.

 

“Just do everything he did, but the opposite.” Temari waved her hand nonchalantly.

 

“Easier said than done,” Gaara snorted, “How about… Shikamaru?”

 

“Don’t even think to mimic him, that lazy asshole,” her feminine voice echoed in sudden anger, “When he had some spare times, all he did was playing _shogi_ or watching the clouds, there’s nothing good about him and you shouldn’t see him as a role model,” Temari sighed heavily, both hands on her waist, didn’t realize that Gaara took a step away from her, “…but, his warmth is real, though. He loved Shikadai more than anything. He was never late for dinner. He would tell me first if he had to undergo overtime at Hokage’s office. And my son, he saw him as a great hero, he respected him the most.”

 

Gaara was stunned by Temari’s testament.

 

“There is… a _huge_ difference between a mentor and a father, Gaara,” she said softly, “Both roles are crucial; to motivate, to protect, to optimize his raw talent, you know it better than I do, but being a _father_ ,” her smile was gentler when she spoke eye to eye with her brother, “Requires _love_.”

 

“I’m convinced about training him to be a _shinobi_ , even the greatest one across the country, but,” he paused. A flashback suddenly exploded inside his head, mercilessly showed him the fragments of memories he’d been through for the last two years. Their _ninjutsu_ training, basic manners, even how to socialize – Gaara frowned. It was not enough, he knew, “…I don’t know how to do that, _to love_.”

 

“You said that he was in a bad shape, not only physically but also… psychologically,” Temari’s glimpse dimmed; reminiscing Gaara’s childhood which was brimmed by violence and isolation, “You’ve been there. You understand his pain, his loneliness, his anger, if you can’t do that, then no one else can.”

 

“And _that_ makes you more than just _worthy_ to become his father.”

 

Shadow of his past portrayed Yashamaru’s figure – in his mind, his uncle repeated the same sentence. About the pain, he could feel but he couldn’t see. About the only remedy which could cure the ache lingered in his chest. It was ‘love’. The ‘love’ he didn’t experience when he was a child. No one could blame him if he grew up as an apathetic being who wasn’t capable to show his affection or attention.

 

To show that he _cared._

 

Then again, his logic was defeated by ‘feeling’, Gaara slightly nodded. Temari was right. Gaara was willing to give up the world in order to save Shinki – and it was his only wish, his commitment.

 

“Thank you, Temari.”

 

“What can you do without me and Kankuro, you little brat,” jokingly, Temari replied. She really wanted to stroke Gaara’s hair, if only they were still messy but now, his brother kept them well. A wider smile was painted on her beautiful face, “Now, go for it. He must be as nervous as you are. Calm him down and make sure he won’t babble in the middle of trial.” She teased, softly elbowing his little brother.

 

“He is _my_ son, he won’t blubber,” Gaara countered. Only if he was Shinki’s age back then, they would end up in a fight. The Fifth smiled graciously, “Wait for me outside, will you? We shall go together.” His waving hand closed their conversation. Gaara kept his expression aloof as he walked to Shinki’s room. Indoor hallway in his residence suddenly felt long and winding; when he finally arrived in front of his destination, a little uncertainty attacked him, he inhaled deeply before eventually knocked.

 

The door was opened from inside, “Aaa – Kazekage-sama,” he moved sideways before letting his soon-to-be-father entered his private zone, “...is it time for us to go?” a bit reluctant, Shinki asked.

 

“When you’re ready.” Gaara hummed in his usual indifferent tone, tried to shield his nervousness.

 

“I am perfectly ready, Kazekage-sama,” his response flew almost without hesitation, “I’m wearing the attire you’ve prepared for me, and…” awkwardly, he showed Gaara the tender movement of his iron sand, which was following his kinetic motion as if it was a living cloak, “…is it fine for me to be clothed in this? The sand makes me feel… _save_.” Shinki’s innocent vocal made the Fifth slightly chuckle.

 

“Make sure you pay attention to your _chakra_ and it will be fine,” casually, Gaara replied. He sensed a constant flow of energy from Shinki’s body and smiled, “You’re getting better in controlling it.” In no time, this talented little kid would surpass him, and he would be the proudest father in the world.

 

A splash of light crimson was tinted on his cheeks. He scratched the back of his head; he heard those compliments regarding his _chakra_ -control but it didn’t mean he could get used to it. He was grateful for eventually belonging to a _shinobi_ family who supported him in anyways, “Today, Kankuro-sama told me that the Elders will come to the trial and he asked me not to put you to shame,” slowly, Shinki raised his hand. The dark material produced a faint buzzing sound when it gently slithered on his skin and the fabric he wore. It was almost pleasant and beautiful to watch; aside from its lethality, “I want to show them that you’re not adopting a useless fighter,” he murmured, “I want to make you _proud_.”

 

“Shinki, really, you…” Gaara put his palm on the crown of the boy’s head and brushed those black, spiky hair with a loving gesture, “Try to be more relaxed, hm? You have _forever_ to improve yourself.”

 

His head was facing down.

 

Gaara missed it; how Shinki’s face blushed and how wild his heart rate was racing. But after all, he trained under the Fifth’s direct command – he had mastered the art of being expressionless. He lifted his face dismissively. Eye to eye with the Kage who looked back at him with a benevolent gaze.

 

The red-haired felt the sudden urge to puke. _This child’s future is my responsibility._ And once he signed the contract – _ah_ , he battled his mind, this was harder than his inauguration as a Kazekage back then.

 

“Shinki, look,” he cleared his throat before he spoke, “We’re going through these procedures together, the paperwork signing, the trial, the vow, and we will do that under the supervision of the judge and some witnesses. When it’s finished, you will officially be part of our family,” Gaara clumsily put his hand on Shinki’s shoulder and averted his eyes, “I’m not only responsible as your mentor, or the village leader, you could start considering and addressing me as your…” a slight pause, “…your _father_.”

 

An imaginary hand squeezes his heart. Shinki could never believe this day finally came.

 

“So, please drop the ‘Kazekage-sama’ when talking to me.”

 

Shinki stuttered, “I – I clearly understand, uh…” his tongue slipped, “Aaaa – _Chichiue_.”

 

“Not bad,” Gaara nodded in satisfaction. He tried his best to look as firm, as tenacious as his usual self; however, a hurricane was happening inside his chest, the same occurred in his stomach, and if only he decided to walk, he swore he would trip over his own feet. If only he knew that having someone who called him _‘father’_ would feel this great, “Now, Temari is waiting for us. Shall we catch up with her?”

 

“I – yes, after you, _Chichiue_.”

 

He was too _young_ to comprehend his own reaction.

 

Shinki’s sharp eyes aimed their attention at the Fifth’s back, his shoulders, his red, well-kept hair. The man he deeply respected soon could be claimed as his father. He did the calculation inside his head; how many years did he need to gain Gaara’s sturdy figure. Shinki blinked in astonishment repeatedly. Sabaku no Gaara – his _hero_. Towering and forced him to look up. The little man accelerated his pace to meet his father’s and silently hoped the grains of sand in his personal hourglass fell faster and faster.


	4. [ 151 cm ]

“Shinki?”

 

“Yes, _Chichiue_?”

 

Carefully, Gaara put down the ballpoint in his grip onto the working table.

 

He eyed his son, quite intensely, quietly fathomed that time had changed the lost little boy into a good looking, charismatic pre-teen. Shinki was twelve by now. His tiny figure grew at least eight inches since the first time he met his saviour. The thick-black, iron sand which he wasn’t able to control back then, now obediently blanketed his lanky but sturdy posture. Nevertheless, it wasn’t his skill that captured Gaara's full attention. It was the tribal motives Shinki chose as his personal war face paint. _Those familiar twin letters –_

 

“...no, nothing,” made Gaara think, _where did I put my sand gourd_ , “Your new war-paint design, it kind of sends me back to the past,” he tenderly smiled right after.

 

Shinki’s cheeks slightly flushed,

 

_He recognized it!_

 

When his chest was irritatingly pounding, the young prodigy was too naive, too inexperienced to comprehend the weird sensation which brutally occurred inside his stomach. The only thing he knew was how light his head felt, yet how numb his tongue was. His genius brain suddenly shut itself down and zero words came up from his mouth.

 

“How's your preparation for _chuunin_ exam, by the way?”

 

Gaara broke the silence,

 

The Kazekage decided to bring the rest of his work home. His big brother, Kankuro, did his best in assisting him; at least the maroon-haired man knew which pile of documents still in need of his approval. Shinki, being attentive as he always was, approached his foster father’s desk. He nimbly helped Gaara classified the files while answering in his usual nonchalant tone, "Kankuro- _sama_ taught me a technique which he considered ‘forbidden’, but–” he paused a bit. His intonation stayed calm, yet arrogant, and Gaara knew it too well from whom did his son inherit that way of talking, “–it wasn’t that hard to master; in fact, I only need a few trials to make it perfect.”

 

“Well, Kankuro needed half a year,” Gaara whispered to himself, “I apologize for my absence lately. I want to supervise your training, I really do, but the discussions with the Elders recently took much of my time,” there was a slight of guilt in Gaara’s voice, “I even don’t think I can manage to send my son to Konoha – but I promise you, I’ll catch up as soon as I could.”

 

“But… _Chichiue_ would be there before the one-on-one match, I assume?”

 

“Earlier, I hope,” Gaara brushed his chin and tried to recall the examination stages as he learned from the trusted proctor. He glanced up at Shinki, giggled at how confident his successor was; _he clearly is certain he could pass the preliminaries, hm?_ Knocking the end tip of his ballpoint on the stone table, Gaara teased, “Remember, I shall watch your performance from the best seat possible, along with other Kages.”

 

Listening to the ‘challenge’, Shinki’s facial expression stiffened, “I won’t let you down, _Chichiue_.”

 

“To disappoint me was the last thing you could ever do to me, Shinki,” at this point, Gaara couldn’t hold back his escaped smile, “Moreover, you should stop thinking that everything is all about me; you participate in this examination _as_ yourself, _for_ yourself. Try to focus on your opponent from other villages.”

 

“…they’re not even close to important.”

 

Gaara sighed,

 

He leaned forward, extended his right hand, and reached the side of Shinki’s face who stood by his side. Two pairs of bright, green eyes met. Gaara almost forgot that the kid had grown taller – “Listen, Shinki. In a duel, it isn’t the victory that matters most,” his baritone was softer as he gently caressed his son’s cheek, “But knowing _why_ are you fighting, that’s the point,” a soft, friendly tap there, before he resuming, “You should never forget your _love_ and _passion_ in martial art just because you want to make me proud,” – _because you, dear son, have already done it._

 

_You always do._

 

Since they crossed each other’s path, Gaara knew that this little man was his _destiny_.

 

A month was all Shinki needed to polish his raw ability into an efficient and deadly _genin_. He passed far above the average and spoke very little regarding his brilliant accomplishment. The fighters his age feared him. Some of them didn’t even have the gut to face him directly. A year after, he graduated from the academy without any hassle. He was shining bright. The protector on his forehead with the hourglass engraved on it was the solid proof. Mission after mission he completed and the reports he submitted always left everyone in awe. Sometimes, Gaara thought he didn’t deserve this – _no,_ not with his dark past which was full of blood and hatred.

 

Gaara never bluntly mentioned it, but it was true that he felt blessed, so happy for being able to witness Shinki’s growth day by day, to see him maturing and developing into a responsible individual. Maybe it was true; that having a child gave him a chance to be a better person.

 

_Father, how I have forgiven you._

 

( –again, Shinki was too young to understand.)

 

“So… What’s your purpose, _Chichiue_?”

 

The older one was startled by Shinki’s sudden question, “Pardon?”

 

“Your reason to fight,” innocently, the _genin_ reiterated, “What is it?”

 

…sometimes, Gaara forgot that Shinki was _twelve_. No matter how destructive his capability was, a novice was a novice. He – _they –_ were trained to finish their tasks without asking, to kill before being killed, to survive in an utmost extreme situation. To be a _loyal_ soldier.

 

They were taught about black and white; to be _either_ of them.

 

Shinki, being _this_ young, already stood on the grey area.

 

“Because I am the Kazekage, the leader and the protector of Sunagakure,” after a few seconds of silence, Gaara finally spoke his mind, “Learn from your opponents, learn from your mistakes and you shall find, where you _truly_ stand,” another pat on the cheek, “Everybody fights for their specific reason, Shinki. What you have to seek, is your _own_ reason, because only by following your heart,” Gaara stood up and headed to the door, “You’ll eventually find your way of _ninja_.”

 

The talented child was stunned by those words,

 

In his reticence, Shinki observed the fragile back which belonged to his father. Never had he really noticed until today; that, behind that slender figure, stood a powerful man who would give his all to assure the safety of the village and its people. Gaara always said that he was the last fortress the enemy had to take down – and for that reason, he had to be the strongest.

 

“If your reason is to protect the village, then…” Shinki argued, “…who will protect you?”

 

Another unexpected question. Gaara’s steps were interrupted midways as his free hand was on the doorknob, “Shinki, say,” he fixed the placement of the documents on his other hand before observing those sharp eyes, “Do I look like a person who needs protection?”

 

“No – I mean, _Chichiue_ is so strong you don’t need it, but – ”

 

He spent a few seconds to look down,

 

“ – could it be my reason?”  
“To be a person _stronger_ than you so I can _protect_ you?”

 

_Ah,_

 

The seriousness. The genuine sincerity. There was a thing on Shinki’s eyes that made Gaara shivered. _Could you please act like a boy your age?_ He smiled, nevertheless, “I appreciate that. I might need it, someday,” the Kazekage nodded earnestly, “Now, are you hungry? Shall we grab something on our way home?”

 

Shinki answered it with a short head gesture.

 

He had to step wider to match Gaara’s quick pace. Slightly, he tilted his head up. It didn’t torture his neck as much as it used to, but it still required some effort. Shinki stared wordlessly at the curves of the older man’s face; imagining how beautiful his well-sculpted contours were only if he could observe them from the same eye-level. _You are beyond reach, dear Father,_ his inner thought was disrupted by the heat as they left the sandy-colored building. The rookie made up his mind – that he had to train hard, _harder_ , in order to be able to protect _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking it forever to update, I lost my writing ability lately :'(  
> Thank you for the subs, kudos, and bookmark, it means the world to me. I'll try to update more. Please don't give up on me :'D


	5. [ 169 cm ]

“ _Chichi-ue_!”

 

_Kami-sama,_

 

Sabaku no Gaara knew it; his one and only beloved son would hit the roof once he heard the bad news.

 

“Shinki, _son_ ,” he started, “Please get hold of yourself. This incident happens quite a lot, lately,” his calm, almost cold tone echoed in the first-class medical ward.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” on the contrary, the younger’s voice was hoarse, clearly holding back his anger.

 

The Fifth sighed.

 

His wounds were neatly patched, thanks to the nurse who just left the room before things got more awkward. Kankuro stayed with the Kazekage, stood stiffly by the hospital bed, where his little brother slightly pushed himself to properly sit down. Clearly, the man in crimson color intended to hide his bandaged right hand, but it turned useless. Shinki’s eyes were more than just sharp to catch the glimpse of redness around his father’s wrists and rushed to the older man’s side. Gaara didn’t exactly know why he felt guilty and slightly afraid of his son’s angry glare.

 

“Yes, it is, and you don’t have to worry since this kind of –”

 

“How the hell am I supposed to calm down?” the sixteen-years-old intentionally raised his voice, “I’ve never seen you being injured _this_ bad before, what happened, seriously?” Shinki almost bumped his uncle’s shoulder as he dashed and reached Gaara’s damaged limb. He furrowed his eyebrows and gritted his teeth in annoyance, “…which fuckers did this to you? How many of them? From which goddamn village are they?” _I swear I’ll make them pay with their own blood._

“Shinki, mind your language.”

 

For the first time after eight years of knowing each other, Gaara finally saw this side of Shinki; _again_. Tensed, unstable, boiling with anger, and it reminded him of the aimless little kid he found in an empty alley. However, Shinki who stood in front of him at that moment, was much more powerful, a potent, lethal killing machine. Some people even equalized the young _jounin_ ’s skill with the special black-ops. Some others believed that he was the strongest candidate to inherit the title of the next Kazekage – even though it wouldn’t happen in the near future. The point was; Shinki who felt cornered and threatened wasn’t an enemy anybody would like to face. Even by the village leader himself.

 

Cautiously, Gaara eyed the young man who tightly grasped his hand. It was hard enough to make him flinched. Kankuro was about to object, but his little brother gestured him not to.

 

Those emerald eyes of his went back to Shinki after a wordless minute passed.

 

“Shall we start over?” he hissed.

 

Shinki’s facial expression was sour, but he nodded eventually. A step backward. A loosened grip. An unsatisfied exhale, as he crossed his hands in front of his chest.

 

“First of all, stop staring at your uncle that way, it wasn’t his fault if I asked him to be left alone,” that was the first warning and Kankuro swore he could be murdered at any time by Shinki’s stare.

 

Gaara rubbed the nape of his neck; it was a long and exhausting day for him and Kankuro since their journey to the Land of Water was ambushed midway by _that_ organization. The Fifth had expected a company but decided to continue the trip so he could prove his suspicion. Turned out, the bait worked, and he was attacked when he was alone and guardless in his personal cabin. Not even the massive protection from his sand and his _ninjutsu_ could counter his opponent’s specialty in long-ranged fighting. His enemy, a lanky, ageless male figure with white complexion, ‘stole’ his _chakra_ using a weapon resembled fishing rod.

 

Nonetheless, it wasn’t like he blamed the expedition. As the Kazekage, Gaara completely fathomed the risk. The Kage Summit he was about to attend turned from an annual meeting into an-almost-monthly-gathering by reason of the increasing number of missing _shinobi_ in mission. They couldn’t rely on the communication device due to the risk of their classified conversation being hacked – it happened once and the outcome wasn’t nice. Also, as the victim, Gaara fully comprehended that it wasn’t a random action done by a group of a bandit, but he was specifically targeted because he was an ex-vessel of a _jinchuuriki_. Something inside his chest told him to warn Shukaku – but it could be done later.

 

For now,

 

“The party who attacked me belongs to the Ootsutsuki clan,” Gaara needed to explain the situation to his hot-tempered successor, “You know them; they have unique ability to manipulate space and time as they wish, to track my movement, to find my location, to infiltrate a moving wagon is easy –”

 

“You should’ve let me guard you,”

 

When Shinki harshly cut off his words, Gaara was astounded,

 

“But you persisted to send me and my team to the border only to exterminate some easy bandits. It was only a B-class mission, _Chichi-ue_ , any jounin can do that, you _know_ it.”

 

“And eliminating those scums is still more important than escorting me,” Gaara spoke decisively.

 

_What on earth._ He was dead tired and arguing against Shinki was the last thing he would like to do.

 

His son behaved oddly for the past three months, _not that he didn’t notice_. Gaara intentionally deployed Shinki to a remote area with high-difficulty mission details in order to polish his focus. Crucial age, pre-adolescence phase, _he knew_ ; Shinki turned rebellious and was too hard to control. He had the tendency to oppose Gaara’s judgment since he was younger, _yes_ , but recently, things were more complicated. Shinki often went home with fractured bones or bruised limbs, which Gaara considered unnecessary. The village leader was worried and concerned and he thought the mission would drain his son’s energy, so he could stick to his priority. Gaara was getting older and honestly, patience wasn’t his virtue; he couldn’t tolerate any fluctuating actions the magnet release user did anymore.

 

As if his capacity in being a good parent was being tested.

 

“Listen carefully,” firmly, the father said, “I want you to return to our residence and manage to keep your head cool. I will stay here for a while,” a heavy sigh, “Kankuro will take care of me.”

 

The order offended him more than he thought it would, “You asked me to go home, while _Oji-ue_ stays beside you,” his logic was consumed by hatred as he snorted in disgust, “Say, _Chichi-ue_ , what did he _do_ when you were attacked?”

 

“Shinki, don’t you _dare_.”

 

The slithering black granules was a solid warning. The movement was abnormal and threatening; fuelled by jealousy he never knew he had. Gaara quickly realized that he wasn’t in his best condition to defend himself, so he signaled Kankuro to activate his _chakra_ thread – the worst scenario, he would throw Shinki outside the hospital window if he had to, if the safety of other patients was at stake.

 

The black-haired juvenile shook his head, “He couldn’t protect you. He was incompetent to do so.”

 

“SHINKI!”

 

A slap,

 

The inky, dark substance which constructed a wave above their head froze at the precise moment. They dissolved a second after, scattered on the wooden floor, and crawled to its master to reform the iron-cloak. However, it wasn’t the sand which needed attention; it was the wielder. He, who got used to laceration, puncture wound; experienced a burning sensation, _hurt_ by a slap on his face.

 

And when he thought his heart wouldn’t ache more than this, Shinki found Gaara stared at him with an all torn up kind of gaze. He was sad. He was – _felt,_ betrayed. The anguish spread like a virus, infected both of them, sent a shiver down their spine. Shinki immediately regretted his words; but it was too late, that he suffered at least twice of what Gaara had to endure right now. Because it was _him_ who was in pain, it was _him_ who looked straight to his eyes, it was _him_ who tried to swallow the tears.

 

“I never taught you to be this disrespectful, this impudent toward your elders,” every syllable of his sayings was trembling, yet Gaara managed to handle his disappointment, “You, apologize to Kankuro.”

 

A drip of blood escaped from his hand, leaked on the wound covering,

 

Still, it wasn’t as painful as hurting his own son.

 

“– _now_ , Shinki.”

 

“You,”

 

Gaara was stunned by the change in how Shinki looked at him,

 

At first, he thought it was plainly a _phase_. A teenager and their disobedient behavior. Gaara had never been this wrong in analyzing a situation; Shinki didn’t lay his eyes on him that way because he couldn’t protect him, not because he felt unwanted, nor his ambition to show himself off. As soon as the Fifth recognized the flame in those eyes, he stepped back in reflex, his face quickly stiffened.

 

A son should never look at his own father _that_ way.

“I’m sick of it,”  
“I’m sick of you treating me like a child.”

 

Gaara sharply inhaled, “Shin –”

 

“STOP ACTING LIKE YOU ARE MY _REAL_ FATHER!”

 

Shinki commanded his iron sand to distract those two siblings and made himself an opening to escape the scene. He squinted as he caught a glimpse of view when Gaara lost his balance and Kankuro was there to catch him before he fell to the floor. _It should be me_ , he turned around and quickened his pace, as fast as he could, he didn’t want to be there any longer. The young blood couldn’t care enough when Gaara called his name, asked him to stay, shouted in worry. _I wanted to protect him,_ he shut his eyes, so hard he could feel the pain stung his eyelids, _but all I can do is hurting him._ Swiftly, silently, he disappeared from the city, passed the settlement, outside the village border. He ran away.

 

Even though he didn’t need to look up to match Gaara’s eye level, now,

 

– he was, _still_ , unattainable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following my story despite my lack of skill in English. I hope you can grasp the main idea of the story. I really appreciate your support by leaving a heart and/or giving me feedback. Wish you all a great day!


	6. [ 171 cm ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I attached an absolutely amazing fanart which inspired me to write this fanfiction, but unfortunately, I had no original source to the original creator. If any of you know the artist, please do let me know so I could give them proper credit. Thank you!

“Please come in.”

 

He answered the knock while tidying up his working space. There was a pile of documents he needed to approve, some other files in the personal computer he had to download – and suddenly he faced a difficulty to cope with his daily routine without his trusted right-hand man around. However, complaining wasn’t his style; the world knew that Sabaku no Gaara never verbally whined. Even though he really wanted to. No matter how much he wished for a day off. The sand wielder exhaled harshly before masking his tired face with a stronger persona. It wasn’t Kankuro behind the door – he recognized his big brother too well as the puppet master wouldn’t bother himself to knock.

 

Since he couldn’t sense the familiar _chakra_ from the other side of the sliding door, Gaara expected the administration staff who was in charge of his meeting schedule or the chambermaid who consistently told him to take a break. He clearly didn’t anticipate a visit from the black-haired young man; his _son_.

 

To be fair, he – _they_ , did ‘owe’ each other an explanation for what happened back then.

 

“Shinki,” Gaara slightly smiled at him, realizing that the _jounin_ ’s ability in concealing his own presence was better than he could remember, and “Have a seat.”

 

The visitor nodded as he stepped into the friendly room, “Thank you.”

 

For a solid minute, they stayed wordless. Shinki sat in silent while observing the tasks on the messy desk which waited to be accomplished. The succulent beside the electronic device greeted him like an old friend. Next to it, laid a frame made of brass, holding a photograph of his younger self with the man he deeply respected. Those intimate, _personal_ details sent a strange sensation inside his stomach and puzzled him – he had to remind himself again and again that he wasn’t there for a sentimentality. The only sound softly resounded in the sandy-colored room was their synchronized breath.

 

“Shinki –”

 

“ _Chichi-ue_ –”

 

Both of them froze,

 

Gaara profoundly watched his one and only heir before showing his emotionally mature side as he gave the younger one permission to talk first. The Fifth rested his back, patiently waiting.

 

“Allow me to apologize,” when those words were blurted out, Shinki was squeezing his hands together and forced himself to look at his father’s eyes, “To you and to _Oji-ue_.”

 

Four months,

 

A quarter of the year had passed since their disagreement made Shinki abandoned the village. The iron-sand user left the Kazekage residence and used his mission fee to survive by himself. It wasn’t like Gaara, as the village leader or as his foster father, didn’t attempt to make peace, but all of his efforts ended up nothing. Kankuro told him not to worry too much – Shinki was an unstable teenage-boy who needed his own space to be himself and only time could answer his questions. Gaara thought this rare opportunity wouldn’t occur twice, so he decided to put behind his obligation as a notable figure.

 

“ _Son_ ,” his voice turned serene. Strict, but not judging, “Do you know what you’re apologizing for?”

 

“I clearly do,” Shinki responded by a confident nod, “For acting like an asshole. For saying that _Oji-ue_ was incompetent. For being rude to you and asking you to stop treating me like a child.”

 

Gaara attentively listened to his son’s statements,

 

“I – when I was alone, I thought about what I’ve said to you and _Oji-ue_ and… I regretted it, I really did. _Oji-ue_ was my mentor – _no,_ frankly speaking, he’s the best puppeteer I’ve ever met. Not only he’s a strong _shinobi_ , but his ability in observing the battlefield accurately in a short time also proves that he’s worthy, and – what I’m trying to say is… I’m not any better than him, I’m deeply sorry for underestimating him, for speaking so lowly of him,” when Shinki talked about his beloved uncle, Gaara could hear and feel his sincerity, so delicate and pure, “And… Concerning the way you handle me, _Chichi-ue_ , if you see me as a useless kid, you would never deploy me to the frontline, nor trusting me on any A-class missions.”

 

His words were so fluid as if he had practiced it over and over,

 

“Everything I said was wrong, I let emotion controlled me – I _failed_ as a _shinobi_ at that moment,” his lips were slightly trembling, yet he finished what he started, “I swear it would never happen again.”

 

“I accept your apology,”

 

Gaara didn’t think that much to reply,

 

“Shinki, I know how hard it is to repress our feeling, trust me when I was your age, my emotional state was so unhealthy even my siblings feared me,” he faintly chuckled, “You’re not alone through this.”

 

The answer made Shinki scoffed, “When you were my age, you were already a Kazekage,” the little man shook his head, remorse and guilt were clearly shown on his painted-face, “You can’t blame ‘this age’ and use it as a justification for me saying those horrible things to you and your big brother.”

 

“I’m so glad that I raise you into a fine gentleman.”

 

“… I hope you truly are.”

 

Come again, the reticence,

 

The gentle curve on Gaara’s lips was absorbed completely. His expression left an open wound, “– don’t you think, you have _another_ thing to be forgiven, Shinki?”

 

“Which is?” Shinki furrowed his sharp brows.

 

“Your _last_ words,” a heart-breaking tone, “Right before you left.”

 

The young fighter almost bit his inner cheek,

 

He recalled every word like it was yesterday. It wasn’t a simple ‘regret’ that smoldered his chest. It was – an unknown, _unnamed,_ sorrowful feeling. Yet he tasted the bitterness, almost physically on his tongue, and if only, “– did I hurt you?” _it was true that he hurt him,_ then he must be the worst man on earth.

 

“More or less.”

 

Gaara turned his head to another direction; anywhere but Shinki’s scorching gaze,

 

“I believed that I was loved by no one,” he started after mere seconds of calming himself down, “I was born and raised as a monster, to be the arsenal of the village – my own father made me a weapon as he successfully did. He never saw me as a person, moreover, as his own flesh and blood, _no_ ,” Gaara’s stare went far, so far that Shinki couldn’t reach, “Perhaps, that’s my reason – my personal, unfinished grudge against my unhappy childhood, that I’m obsessed to be a perfect father figure for you, Shinki.”

 

When their eyes met, Shinki gasped,

 

Never had Gaara ever shown his weakness _this_ much, _this_ obvious.

 

“I should’ve known that it’s impossible to be perfect. I apologize if I annoy you, irritate you way too much, I never meant to act as if I’m a substitute for your real parents,” he inhaled, slowly, deeply, “I’m not used to saying this bluntly but – I love you, Shinki, I love you, very, very much.”

 

More than blood ties.

 

More than _anything_.

 

Shinki _knew_.

 

However, that wasn’t the _love_ he was asking for.

 

“You misunderstood,” he felt the urge to clarify, “I do apologize for hurting you, but I won’t say so for having this – _feeling_ , for you,” Shinki outdared himself to see his father, eye to eye, “It wasn’t _you_ who couldn’t be a good father, it was _me_ who couldn’t be your son anymore.”

 

These words seemed at first to stupefy Gaara, “I’m afraid I don’t quite catch that.”

 

‘Because I want _more_.’

 

‘ _More_ than _everything_ you’ve always claimed about _us_.’

 

The silence spoke it all. And Gaara thought the world below him crumbled as he couldn’t feel anything solid beneath his feet. He was left suffocate. Numb. _Breathless._ He wasn’t talking to a fragile, lost boy who needed his guardian and protection, but –

 

 “I humbly ask for your permission to leave this village temporarily, _Chichi-ue_ ,” finally, he made a hard decision. Shinki heard about this method was being used by fellow _shinobi_ – to withdraw from any official missions and focused themselves into individual, secluded training outside their hometown. He needed to be alone, so he could achieve the clarity and hopefully an enclosure regarding the pain inside his chest, “There are… _things_ I haven’t understood yet. Things I have to discover without you.”

 

Shinki’s request was a hard pill to swallow,

 

“– does it have to be this way, Shinki?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I always wanted to be a person who could protect you,” his smile was hollow, and it broke Gaara’s heart, “But if I’m being here, around you, in my current condition – I’m just going to hurt you.”

 

He found it,

 

Something strange. Odd. _Inappropriate_. That wasn’t a warm gaze a son gave to his father. He found an obsession. An ambition. A desire to possess. An egotistical need to monopolize. A longing. A _lust._

 

Shinki was looking at him as a grown-up. As a _man._

“I’m leaving, _Chichi-ue_ ,” he broke the silence, “I shall try my best in taking care of myself. I promise you I would never be a _nukenin_ nor following a wrong path – I’ll let you know once I’m about to depart and,” Shinki stood up and bowed down to show his gratitude toward his long-term mentor, “Thank you so much for guiding and teaching me, I hope I could return the favor sometime in the future.”

 

“Hold on, Shin –”

 

When he gripped his wrist, Gaara realized – he didn’t need to look down to see Shinki in the eye. They were about the same height for the time being. _(They had never been this close.)_ The Fifth suddenly understood; once more, he was _forced_ to accept the fact that the aimless kid he found in the empty alley had transformed into a _man_ who fought for his own existence. For the love that he had. For _him._ Gaara closed his eyes. Not that he was ready to let him go, but his intuition told him to so.

 

“You have my blessing,” with a heavy heart, Gaara turned away, “Leave, now.”

 

Today, Gaara _lost_ his son.

 

He knew Shinki would never address him as a ‘father’ any longer.

 

 

 

 

 

**[ 173 cm ]**

Your hand didn’t feel as warm as usual and I don’t know,  
Your hug, your embrace,  
When you brushed my hair, when you patted my shoulder,  
Every single touch you did to me was _burning,_

 

**[ 176 cm ]**

Your affection was my yearning and I don’t know,  
You had no idea how many times I curse myself,  
For having these things which I considered a blasphemy, to you,  
It was wild, it was aberrant, it was violent – an _obsession,_

 

 

**[ 181 cm ]**

You were so enchantingly beautiful and I don’t know,  
You would never realize how much inferiority gnawing inside of me,  
Because I, for my whole life, had to _look up_ to be able to see your face,  
For once, _I beg you_ , for once, not as a Kazekage, not as my foster, _please,_

 

 

 

 

**[ 189 cm ]**

Please –  _[look](https://i.imgur.com/eDLjqeV.jpg)_  at me.

**Author's Note:**

> Look (Only) At Me (c) Taeyang of Big Bang.
> 
> I wrote this originally in Bahasa, but I really want to share this one to the world so I decided to rewrite this in English. Pardon any grammatical mistakes and repeated vocabularies, (if any). And, yes, this will be a story which lead to eventual romance between Gaara and his foster son.


End file.
